The Fieldhttps://www.thefield.co.uk
The best of fieldsports and country lifeFri, 13 Sep 2019 14:12:02 +0000en-UShourly1Christopher Marshall, sporting artisthttps://www.thefield.co.uk/country-house/art-antiques/christopher-marshall-sporting-artist-43068
Fri, 13 Sep 2019 14:12:02 +0000https://www.thefield.co.uk/?p=43068Christopher Marshall explains to Janet Menzies how deploying technology buys him the time to undertake the canine portraits he lovesGame for anything, a limited-edition print by Somerset-based watercolour artist Christopher Marshall. Today we are spoilt for excellent equestrian painting and sculpture, but what about our beloved canine companions? Christopher Marshall explains …Continue reading »]]>Christopher Marshall explains to Janet Menzies how deploying technology buys him the time to undertake the canine portraits he lovesGame for anything, a limited-edition print by Somerset-based watercolour artist Christopher Marshall.

Today we are spoilt for excellent equestrian painting and sculpture, but what about our beloved canine companions? Christopher Marshall explains to Janet Menzies how with time and technology he can now meet more clients and their dogs for watercolours that aim to capture character.

For more sporting artists, Justin Tew captures compelling and nostalgic seascapes, and now his concerns for marine conservation are informing his work. And sculptor Frippy Jameson was given unprecedented access to the Cavalry Blacks at Hyde Park Barracks.

CHRISTOPHER MARSHALL

We British love our dogs even more than our horses, so why should it be that we have such excellent equestrian painting and sculpture today, and yet almost no contemporary depictions of dogs worth calling art? Canine portraitist Christopher Marshall is determined to lift dog painting to a level that is beyond the predictable, shiny-nosed cuteness of a thousand “thank you for having me” cards. Working directly with client commissions, he insists: “People want to see their animals and be able to recognise them and their character. They don’t want to see a generic chocolate-box image. Now I am lucky to be in the position where I can enjoy what I am doing with portraiture without having to be strict about the economic aspect of it.”

Dashing through the snow.

More than 30 years ago, Marshall was in rather a different place. “When I was 18 or 19 I was doing a holiday job in the local garage cleaning people’s cars and taking customers home to their houses and I would say, ‘I do house portraits’ and get commissions to paint people’s houses. Then I gradually began to specialise in dogs and build up a reputation. I knew from the start that I wanted to make a living from my painting. You give up employed work and you think, OK, I want to do this, and people immediately tell you that you can’t make a living as an artist. So I put my business head on and I could see a way of making images that people would want to buy – which really meant print-making, but it’s expensive to start up. I thought, how do estate agents afford to give away high-quality photographs? I looked at the volume photographic print business, which turned out to be economic, and so I got started by selling photographs of my work, which meant I didn’t have to go through the expensive conventional print-making process. I got a government enterprise allowance, and that is how it started. Now, with modern technology, I can make fantastic quality prints at home. It could be looked down on, but if I had sold only originals I would have struggled.”

Double trouble.

One artist who definitely wouldn’t have looked down on Marshall is arguably the greatest of all canine portraitists, the true Victorian, Sir Edwin Landseer. Landseer’s brother, Thomas, made engravings of his paintings that became international best-sellers – most middle-class Victorian homes would have had a Landseer engraving hanging in the drawing room. And pug-owner William Hogarth knew the value of print-making as a medium in its own right with his mid-18th-century works, including A Rake’s Progress. For Marshall, however, a great benefit of print-making is that it has given him the freedom to work on the uneconomic process of one-off watercolours.

INDIVIDUAL PORTRAITS

“As I was getting established, I went through a phase of doing 40 shows a year and selling lots of prints, but now I am able to get back to enjoying myself actually painting and spend time on the individual portraits. My living still comes out of the print range, but today I can concentrate on my portrait commissions and spend much more time with the clients and their dogs, which I love. You travel and meet such lovely people, and I know that my customers want something a bit special.”

This is the challenge that Marshall enjoys most, travelling the length and breadth of Britain to meet dogs and their owners. He explains: “When you are painting an animal you realise that it is not just a dog, it is someone’s friend and confidante – after all, some people prefer animals to people. When I am doing a portrait I am creating a document that is going to last forever, a painting of this loved creature, which may even be handed on down the generations – so it is not just a picture of a dog.

Heading for the border.

“The process is really important. I come up to the client’s home to start by taking some photographs. I take 50 or 100 frames really quickly, to capture the dog in his natural poses without him getting bored. Then I sit down with the client and we go through the pictures together. The client decides whether the eventual portrait should be running or perhaps with a retrieve or just sitting. And then we pick out a handful of shots that the client feels are most true to the dog and capture his character. Once the client is happy with the type of image, it will take me a month or two in the studio to create the finished watercolour – and the main thing is that the client falls in love with the picture.”

]]>Partridge, black pudding and sloe gin terrinehttps://www.thefield.co.uk/food/partridge-black-pudding-sloe-gin-terrine-43075
Wed, 11 Sep 2019 11:57:54 +0000https://www.thefield.co.uk/?p=43075With partridge now filling the larder, try Philippa Davis' partridge, black pudding and sloe gin terrine - an impressive starter for your next supper partyPartridge, due to its flavour and size, can be used in a huge variety of starters. Due to its size and flavour, partridge is one of the easiest game meats to use. Philippa Davis’ partridge, black …Continue reading »]]>With partridge now filling the larder, try Philippa Davis' partridge, black pudding and sloe gin terrine - an impressive starter for your next supper partyPartridge, due to its flavour and size, can be used in a huge variety of starters.

Due to its size and flavour, partridge is one of the easiest game meats to use. Philippa Davis’ partridge, black pudding and sloe gin terrine makes an excellent starter, best served with thick toasted sourdough.

For more partridge recipe inspiration, from goujons for the smalls to the perfect roast, add The Field’s 10 best partridge recipes to your repertoire.

PARTRIDGE, BLACK PUDDING AND SLOE GIN TERRINE

Serves 8

60g breadcrumbs

½ nutmeg, grated

8 crushed juniper berries

6 tbsp sloe gin

3 tbsp finely chopped parsley

300g sausage meat

2 tbsp butter

3 tbsp olive oil

150g yellow onion, finely chopped

200g black pudding, cut into 1cm cubes

10 partridge breasts, skinned and cut into 1cm strips

1 tbsp thyme, finely chopped

230g smoked rindless streaky bacon

To serve

Thick toasted sourdough

Cornichons

2lb loaf tin or terrine

Preheat the oven to 160°C/315°F/Gas Mark 5.

Place the breadcrumbs, nutmeg, juniper, 3 tablespoons of sloe gin, parsley and sausage meat in a bowl.

In a frying pan on a medium heat, sauté the onions with 2 tablespoons butter and 1 tablespoon olive oil until soft and sweet but not coloured (about 10 minutes) then add to the breadcrumbs.

In the same pan on a high heat add 1 tablespoon olive oil, fry the black pudding until it goes a little crispy, then add to the bowl. It doesn’t have to be cooked through.

Return the pan to a high heat, add the final tablespoon of olive oil and fry the partridge with the thyme until it browns. Again, it doesn’t need to be cooked through. Once coloured add the rest of the sloe gin, cook for 15 seconds then add to the bowl.

Season the mix with a little salt and pepper and mix.

Lightly oil your terrine dish and line with cling film, letting extra hang over the sides.

Using the back of knife flatten each rasher of bacon then use them to line the tin neatly, allowing them to just overlap and the ends hang over the sides.

Press the partridge mix into the tin firmly and fold over the loose ends of bacon.

Fold over any overhanging cling film and place a folded piece of foil on top.

Tightly cover with a double layer of foil (place on the lid if it has one).

Place in a deep roasting tin and pour enough hot water in to come halfway up the side.

Bake for 1 hour 30 minutes.

Remove from the water and allow to cool.

Weigh the cooked terrine down (another dish with a tin of beans or tomatoes in it works well) and chill overnight.

To serve, remove terrine from the dish and take off the cling film.

Cut into 2cm slices and serve with toast and cornichons.

]]>Rosie Whitaker, sporting Dianahttps://www.thefield.co.uk/country-house/rosie-whitaker-sporting-diana-43057
Tue, 10 Sep 2019 08:01:16 +0000https://www.thefield.co.uk/?p=43057From a family of top shots, Rosie Whitaker, a freelance writer, is passionate about encouraging the next generation of guns – and good manners in the fieldRosie Whitaker served an in-depth 'apprenticeship' in shooting as a child under her father, top shot Sir Joseph Nickerson. Learning from a family of top shots as a child, Rosie Whitaker is passionate about getting the next generation of …Continue reading »]]>From a family of top shots, Rosie Whitaker, a freelance writer, is passionate about encouraging the next generation of guns – and good manners in the fieldRosie Whitaker served an in-depth 'apprenticeship' in shooting as a child under her father, top shot Sir Joseph Nickerson.

Learning from a family of top shots as a child, Rosie Whitaker is passionate about getting the next generation of guns into the field and encouraging good manners in all aspects of the sport.

For more sporting Dianas, seriously sporting ladies offering advice and encouragement, a hard hunting fall led Nicole Escue to a new-found passion for shooting. And Charlotte McNulty is a game rearer and determined the next generation should enjoy the best the countryside has to offer.

ROSIE WHITAKER

I was lucky enough to grow up in the country, in a family obsessed with shooting. My father, Sir Joseph Nickerson or Partridge Joe (because of his love for wild grey partridges), was one of the top shots of his generation and his passion for shooting is legendary. He adored passing on his knowledge and enthusiasm to his children. As a result, we spent a lot of time with him at home in Rothwell, Lincolnshire, learning not just about shooting but also shoot management, conservation and dog handling. You could say we had a long and in-depth country apprenticeship.

A few days short of my 10th birthday, I shot my first bird, a grouse, at Wemmergill, a moor my father loved as his own and leased for 36 years. At that time my gun was a simple non-ejector AYA .410, with one firing pin removed, to teach me to make the most of one shot and also for safety. It was a very unlucky grouse. It was stuffed and placed in a smart glass box and still observes me daily from its high shelf in our kitchen.

Shooting is a sport the whole family can be involved in – our three children all joined us on the field from the age of about five or six and they liked to help load, hold the dog or join the beaters, or go on the flank. All five of us shoot together in the line regularly. Over the years we’ve had lots of children come to our farm who’ve never even handled a shotgun before and I’ve helped them to fire their first shots safely. When they smash their first clays, it gives me far more pleasure than if I’d hit them myself. It’s so important the next generation gets involved to understand and defend our sport, which has so many conservation benefits and really knits rural communities together.

Shooting is for the whole family, and Rosie delights in helping young visitors to the farm take their first shots safely.

I shoot with a pair of 20-bore AYAs given to me for my 18th birthday. I enjoy all aspects of shooting, from the adrenaline-fuelled ‘hedging and ditching’, playing chase-the -pheasant on small family days, to the more formal driven days, which can work like an elaborately choreographed piece of theatre with everyone working seamlessly together to get the birds to flush at the exact right point. Shooting often takes you to such wild, unspoiled parts of the country, it’s a real privilege to be invited and I have been lucky enough to shoot in many different places in the UK, as well as abroad. Top of my list is shooting grouse, especially in Swaledale, which I find one of the most exciting and challenging places you can shoot grouse, and its people are such great characters.

When I was at Cambridge in the 1980s I joined the clay-shooting team, competing against Oxford. In those days it was still relatively uncommon to be a female shot but now it’s no longer so unusual and that’s such a positive step forwards as, in my opinion, chauvinism has no place on the field, just as elsewhere.

I love dog handling and our latest dog is a gorgeous fox-red labrador, Maple, two years old, who I’ve been training myself and she’s been coming on brilliantly. Working a dog after the drive really adds another dimension to a shoot day.

Maple, Rosie’s 2-year-old fox-red labrador.

When I worked in London, I became an active member of the then newly founded Game Conservancy Trust [now the GWCT], and I chaired its annual ball at the Hurlingham in 1997. I was on the committee of the Purdey Awards and enjoyed visiting different shoots and estates and learning about conservation techniques.

Friends who shoot with me might have noticed that I am very keen on good manners on the field; I deplore ‘poaching’ of any kind. As well as good sportsmanship and respect for the birds, we all have a duty to ensure no game gets wasted and I hugely admire the growing number of organisations that are promoting game for the table.

Knowledge of your quarry, respect for the sport, as well as good manners towards fellow guns and shoot staff are all essential. I feel so passionate about this, that I wrote a book in collaboration with cartoonist Oliver Preston called How to be Asked Again: How to be the Perfect Shooting Guest, which has sold more than 13,000 copies.

TOP TIPS:Introduce a youngster to shooting, involve them in all aspects of the sport and share your peg if you can. Pack the car the night before, leaving the empty sleeve at the end of your bed as a reminder to take your gun out of the safe. Eat more game: visit YouTube to find out how to skin and breast a pheasant – it is unbelievably easy.

]]>Setters: a sight in heatherhttps://www.thefield.co.uk/gundogs/setters-a-sight-in-heather-43053
Mon, 09 Sep 2019 13:00:56 +0000https://www.thefield.co.uk/?p=43053Setters quartering the grouse moor are the epitome of grace. However, competition on the Continent is increasingly requiring them to retrieve, too, as David Tomlinson explains An Irish setter retrieving a grouse; setters have always been regarded as grouse-moor specialists. Setters are classic hunter-pointers but competition on the Continent is increasingly expecting them to retrieve as well. Always considered the …Continue reading »]]>Setters quartering the grouse moor are the epitome of grace. However, competition on the Continent is increasingly requiring them to retrieve, too, as David Tomlinson explains An Irish setter retrieving a grouse; setters have always been regarded as grouse-moor specialists.

Setters are classic hunter-pointers but competition on the Continent is increasingly expecting them to retrieve as well. Always considered the grouse moor specialists, there’s no reason their talent and grace shouldn’t be seen more widely, says David Tomlinson.

Breaking into shooting is especially difficult if you have an HPR, but old assumptions that they are noisy and hard-mouthed are dying out. David Tomlinson advises on how to take an HPR shooting.

SETTERS

Watching a quartering setter seemingly floating across a purple moor is pure poetry. It all looks so easy, so effortless, yet that dog is galloping on ground where we humans find it difficult to walk. What is even more remarkable is that at full gallop the dog is still able to scent a grouse. It will go from flat-out to point in less time that it takes you to read this. It’s no wonder that many regard shooting over these dogs as the best sport available in these islands.

Along with the (English) pointer, the setters are the oldest of our sporting gundog breeds and have been around for several hundred years. They evolved long before the shotgun, their job being to hold – set – rather than flush game, so that the sportsmen could net the crouching birds. Over the decades different blood was introduced to improve their performance – foxhound for endurance and pace, even greyhound for speed – but they remained recognisably setter.

It wasn’t until the 19th century that the breeds we know today were established and refined. Until then different kennels favoured different colours or even types of dogs, but it was due to the efforts of breeders such as Edward Laverack, Richard Purcell Llewellin and William Humphrey that the Irish setter, red and white setter, Gordon setter and English setter were finally established.

Llewellin died in 1925, but it is a mark of his achievement that today, nearly a century later, there are many who believe his strain of setter makes a fifth breed. Whether it does or not is a matter for the purists, but from a practical point there’s nothing to choose between how any of these setters work. All compete against each other in trials on equal terms, and though experts may tell you that because the Gordon is heavier it’s slower than its Irish and English cousins, that’s not necessarily the case.

Traditionally, Gordon setters are black and tan, Irish setters red, English setters white ticked or marked with black, lemon, liver or orange, and red and white setters just as their name suggests. However, such is their mixed ancestry that throwbacks are not unusual, with all-red Gordon setters the most frequent. Some years ago I met a pure-bred working pointer that was long-haired, and if I hadn’t been told I would have assumed it was an English setter as that’s exactly what it looked like. It was a reminder that pointers come from the same stock as setters.

THE DIFFERENCE TO WALKED-UP

Shooting over setters is just that, and not to be confused with walked-up shooting with spaniels and retrievers. The sportsman or woman walks with an unloaded gun: cartridges are only slipped into the breech when the dog is on point. When the setter is holding a firm point the gun is taken forward by the dog’s handler who, when the gun is ready, will instruct the dog to flush the bird or birds.

Setters are classic hunter-pointers, as opposed to the continental hunter-pointer-retrievers, as traditionally they have rarely been asked to retrieve. Quartering a moor is hard work, even though it may not look like it, so it has always been the tradition that once a bird had been found, pointed and shot, a spaniel or retriever should be sent to pick it up. This had the added bonus of the setter being unlikely to run in to retrieve. A setter that runs in is vulnerable to being shot if the shooter fires his or her second barrel. Most handlers will tell you of dogs they have had that liked to retrieve, but it’s never been a practice that has been encouraged.

Now, however, attitudes are changing and an increasing number of handlers are training their setters to pick up. The catalyst for change has been British dogs and handlers entering the World Championship for Pointing Breeds, where all competing dogs are expected to hunt, point and retrieve. The Championship is divided into several different competitions, and there is one exclusively for British breeds. Ironically, this has never been won by a British handler, though last year, in Spain, Britain’s Sara Chichester was placed fourth overall individually.

Setters in general and English setters in particular are popular on the Continent, and in several countries, from Norway to Greece, the English setter is by far the most numerous hunting dog. The word English in the name – setter Ingles in Spanish, le setter anglais in French – may be a reminder of the breed’s country of origin, but the working strain has been developed and refined in Europe and the USA, not in the UK. True, we still have some excellent performers, but in recent years top breeders have imported English setters from Europe to bring fresh blood and renewed vigour into the breed.

These continental dogs come from a long line of setters that have been bred to retrieve, so training their progeny to pick up is unlikely to be a challenge. Who knows, perhaps one day we might recognise the fact that with the right training, a setter can do everything that an HPR like a German shorthaired pointer can do, but arguably with more style. Setters have always been regarded as grouse-moor specialists, but their talents deserve to be seen more widely. If they retrieve, there’s no reason why that shouldn’t be the case.

]]>Game and blue cheese bridiehttps://www.thefield.co.uk/food/game-blue-cheese-bridie-42980
Fri, 23 Aug 2019 07:48:56 +0000https://www.thefield.co.uk/?p=42980Pack a proper pocket picnic for the hill with Philippa Davis' game and blue cheese bridie - inspired by the Scottish meat pastries Bridie is the Scottish answer to pasties. Bridies are pasties’ Scottish counterpart, and make an excellent piece for the hill. Philippa Davis’ game and blue cheese bridie …Continue reading »]]>Pack a proper pocket picnic for the hill with Philippa Davis' game and blue cheese bridie - inspired by the Scottish meat pastries Bridie is the Scottish answer to pasties.

Bridies are pasties’ Scottish counterpart, and make an excellent piece for the hill. Philippa Davis’ game and blue cheese bridie is exactly the hearty fare best packed into a pocket.

For more game-y goodness suitable for a pocket picnic, our pheasant and walnut pasties make substantial point-to-point picnic fodder or piece for the hill. They are also delicious made with venison.

GAME AND BLUE CHEESE BRIDIE

Inspired by the Scottish meat pastries created in Forfar, these make the perfect pocket picnic.

Serves 12

Filling

1.4kg mixed game, small diced

2 red onions, peeled and finely chopped

4 sticks celery, finely diced

2 tsp wholegrain mustard

3 tsp Worcestershire sauce

1 tbsp crushed caraway

500ml golden ale

5 bay leaves

To thicken

2 tbsp cornflour

2 tbsp cold water

300g blue cheese

Pastry

170g butter, chopped into small cubes

170g beef dripping, chopped into small cubes

200ml just-boiled water

700g plain flour

½ tsp fine sea salt

½ tsp ground black pepper

Egg Glaze

1 egg yolk

2 tbsp milk

For the filling, preheat the oven to 200°C/400°F/Gas Mark 6.

Place all the filling ingredients in a large, ovenproof dish, season then cover tightly.

Cook for 40 minutes, turn the heat down to 160°C/315°F/Gas Mark 2.5 and cook for another two hours or until tender.

Mix the cornflour with the water and stir into the game mix. Return to the oven and cook uncovered for another 30 minutes; the mix should thicken. Leave to cool.

For the pastry, place the butter and beef dripping in a bowl, whisk in the water until you get a smooth paste.

Add the flour, salt and pepper and mix to form a ball.

Form into two disks, wrap and chill for one hour.

Preheat the oven to 180°C/350°F/Gas Mark 4 and line two flat baking sheets with non-stick paper.

In a cup, mix glaze ingredients.

Roll the pastry out into a thin sheet and cut into 12 x 15cm circles. Brush with egg glaze and sprinkle blue cheese in the centre of each.

Place a spoonful of game mix onto each of the circles, fold over and seal around the edges.

Brush the outside with egg glaze.

Bake for 30 minutes, leave to cool a little before wrapping them for the hill.

]]>Jeep Renegade Trailhawkhttps://www.thefield.co.uk/country-house/jeep-renegade-trailhawk-43003
Thu, 22 Aug 2019 08:48:15 +0000https://www.thefield.co.uk/?p=43003Let them laugh, says Charlie Flindt, at its ‘kooky’ appearance. They won’t be laughing when they hit a bumpy patch off-roadThe Trailhawk isn't dull to the eye.It may look a little ‘funky’, but Charlie Flindt is impressed by the Jeep Renegade Trailhawk. You buy a Jeep …Continue reading »]]>Let them laugh, says Charlie Flindt, at its ‘kooky’ appearance. They won’t be laughing when they hit a bumpy patch off-roadThe Trailhawk isn't dull to the eye.

It may look a little ‘funky’, but Charlie Flindt is impressed by the Jeep Renegade Trailhawk. You buy a Jeep for the rough stuff, and off-road is where the Trailhawk really shines.

For a Jeep that is a little less rugged but still plucky, read our review of the Jeep Cherokee.

JEEP RENEGADE TRAILHAWK

I do hope the Renegade Trailhawk has a thick skin – it was attracting a fairly diverse set of comments in the week I drove it. The kindest was that it was the steroid-filled lovechild of a Jimny and a Fiat Panda. Other comments included: “funky” and “kooky”. It’s certainly not dull to the eye, with its undersized grill and oversized wheel arches, and in a market crowded with monotony that’s a good thing.

Inside, the wacky theme continues, with ergonomics that suggest that the committee in charge of designing it weren’t even on the same continent, never mind round the same table. The seat seems too far back for the rear-view mirror, let alone for a quick manual de-mist of the windscreen. It’s surprisingly roomy, however – rumours of Panda/Jimny heritage tend to suggest it’ll be more cramped.

The cabin has a military feel to it.

The cabin has an unrefined and slightly military feel to it, with heavy controls set in dark, vertical faces and a seat that creaked as if it had done 10 tours in the Gulf. But, all in all, it’s a comfortable place to be.

On the road, the sense of unrefinement continues. The nine-speed automatic gearbox insists on changing up to its highest gear as soon as possible, and the two-litre, four-cylinder diesel is certainly not silky smooth at 1,300rpm. More than once I found myself switching over to ‘manual’ and changing down just to push the revs up a bit, and eliminate the shuddering in the driveline. Probably not good for the fuel consumption but the Renegade seems to have missed its session in the wind tunnel so one gear lower will make little difference.

But all this is not why you buy a Jeep. You buy a Jeep for the rough stuff and as the ruffy-tuffy ‘Trailhawk’ name suggests, it’s off the road that this Renegade shines. It has extra cladding over the basic model and numerous vital transmission components have been fitted with protective plates.

Subtly reshaped bumpers.

The bumpers have been subtly reshaped and, quite astonishingly, the central third of the bonnet has been coated with what appears to be a chalkboard. All those years of trying to tell a dopey gun to go down that track for 50yd and then go into the woods for five paces and the birds will be coming from his right – now you can do a proper diagram on the bonnet. I searched in vain for the schoolroom-style box of multi-coloured chalks but Jeep must have forgotten to put it in the glovebox.

Set the 4wd system to the ratio/terrain of your choice (not a lot of ‘mud’ to be found while I had it, unfortunately) and the Renegade is fantastic. It trundles majestically over lumps and bumps with utter assurance (once you’ve switched off the proximity sensors, which are wetting themselves at every blade of grass). It’s up here that it shines. Order it in the lovely green and you’d think it looks rather handsome among the trees. There’s no-one here to laugh at it, or call it names. If there were, you could put their name, Dad’s Army-style, on the bonnet.

]]>Chocolate and orange fruit tea cakehttps://www.thefield.co.uk/food/chocolate-orange-fruit-tea-cake-42976
Fri, 09 Aug 2019 09:05:48 +0000https://www.thefield.co.uk/?p=42976It may seem like an unnecessary extravagance for the hill, but Philippa Davis' chocolate and orange fruit tea cake is best for when sustenance is required It may feel like wild extravagance, but this chocolate and orange fruit tea cake is perfect for the hill. A day on the hill calls for hearty fare – but it must be robust enough to survive the journey. …Continue reading »]]>It may seem like an unnecessary extravagance for the hill, but Philippa Davis' chocolate and orange fruit tea cake is best for when sustenance is required It may feel like wild extravagance, but this chocolate and orange fruit tea cake is perfect for the hill.

A day on the hill calls for hearty fare – but it must be robust enough to survive the journey. Philippa Davis’ chocolate and orange fruit tea cake is perfect for keeping in a pocket until sustenance is required. It may seem like an unnecessary extravagance, particularly when packing immediately after breakfast, but it will be just what is called for to see you through to the afternoon.

Pack those pockets properly for a day on the hill. Our venison sausage rolls are a long-time favourite, perfect for picnics, point-to-points and shoot ‘grog’ stops alike. Or for a pud that will make it up the hill for lunch in the bothy, our peach, fig, plum and croissant pudding will not disappoint. Plus, it makes an excellent surreptitious breakfast…

CHOCOLATE AND ORANGE FRUIT TEA CAKE

Serves 12

Cake

250ml boiling water

2 teabags

100g glacé cherries

100g mixed dried fruit

2 tbsp orange liqueur

250g room-temperature butter

250g soft brown sugar

260g self-raising flour

4 eggs

2 tsp mixed spice

1 tbsp cocoa powder

100g roughly chopped walnuts

1 orange, zest only

100g dark chocolate chips

Icing

150g icing sugar

2-3 tbsp double cream

2 tsp orange liqueur

Preheat the oven to 170°C/325°F/Gas Mark 3.

Line 2 x 1lb loaf tins with baking paper.

In a pan on a low heat add the boiling water, teabags, cherries and dried fruit. Bring to a simmer and cook until the liquid has been soaked up. Take off the heat, leave to cool, remove the teabags then stir in the liqueur.

Beat the butter and sugar until pale and fluffy, then gently add in the eggs.

Stir in the rest of ingredients, pour into the tins and bake for 50 minutes or until a skewer comes out clean. Leave to cool.

Mix all the icing ingredients together, pour over the top and leave to set, about four hours.

]]>Justin Tew, sporting artisthttps://www.thefield.co.uk/country-house/art-antiques/justin-tew-sporting-artist-42996
Wed, 07 Aug 2019 13:05:27 +0000https://www.thefield.co.uk/?p=42996Justin Tew’s compelling seascapes offer a nostalgic view of the ocean but, as he tells Janet Menzies, his concerns surrounding conservation are now informing his workPangolin, by Justin Tew.Justin Tew captures compelling and nostalgic seascapes but now his concerns for marine conservation are starting to inform his work, …Continue reading »]]>Justin Tew’s compelling seascapes offer a nostalgic view of the ocean but, as he tells Janet Menzies, his concerns surrounding conservation are now informing his workPangolin, by Justin Tew.

Justin Tew captures compelling and nostalgic seascapes but now his concerns for marine conservation are starting to inform his work, as he tells Janet Menzies.

For more sporting artists, sculptor Frippy Jameson was given unprecedented access to the Cavalry Blacks at Hyde Park Barracks. And Lionel Edwards’ paintings capture red-letter days as we still imagine them today.

JUSTIN TEW

Who knows the origin of the phrase, ‘the call of the sea’? But we all know exactly what it means. It’s the feeling that Justin Tew captures in his nostalgia-dappled seascapes. Bathers wade out into Mediterranean shallows; umbrella pines shade the shoreline. Everyone will supply their own special location but for the artist, it is the French Riviera. “My favourite hunting ground is the Côte d’Azure – Villefranche and Cap Ferrat. It’s in my DNA. My father started to go to the South of France back in the 1930s and he loved it. So as children we all went back every year. Where I live now in Bedfordshire you are as far away as possible from the sea – but there is something about being beside the sea. And I can’t get enough of it.”

Cap Ferrat 1.

Riviera-lovers will certainly recognise particular views but Tew doesn’t want to pin down his work to postcard scenes. He stresses: “I try not to be too representational, it is the feeling that I want to communicate. I am interested in our emotional response and the escapism that it conjures up. The nostalgic element just seems to occur as part of the seascapes.”

That nostalgia is rapidly becoming all too well-founded as the plastic tide threatens the world’s most beautiful seascapes. The challenge is leading Tew’s work into new areas. “I was in the Maldives 10 years ago and even then I noticed the plastic waste. This time it was so much worse. We went out as a family earlier this year with our son and ended up doing a project with him and just trying to collect as much plastic as we could. It made me realise that I needed to do something in my art. So I was painting Maldives seascapes but I also started to do just the fish and to paint them big. I am painting them bigger than they are in reality but I think the fish have to be big. It makes them speak.”

Painted Sweetlips.

Tew’s first art project, while still at university, was also conservation-linked. “I read biology at university and during my degree I ended up in Zimbabwe in the bush working on a black rhino conservation project and did some studies of the rhinos then. I continued to paint African wildlife but at first I was quite conflicted about whether to pursue art. I came back to the UK and did estate agency and hated it. Then I discovered Venice and loved the magic of the bay and the light. My mind was made up when I did some limited-edition prints and sold them to John Lewis, which gave me the security to concentrate on painting.”

CHILDHOOD HAUNTS

Revisiting his childhood haunts on the Riviera, Tew began to paint the scenes he knew so well, with instant success. “I painted this hotel, it’s on the coast between Monaco and Nice, with this amazing swimming pool looking out over the Mediterranean. I saw it and knew I had to paint it. I wanted the interplay between the man-made pool and the natural sea – with the sea ending up as 95% of the painting. And that was sold through a London gallery.” Then, by chance, Tew met the owners of the hotel on a recent visit to Monaco and has now been commissioned to recreate his original works.

As we read this, Tew will be at work on the cliffs of the Côte d’Azure. “It feels a bit cheeky. I will be working making lots of images but it is a bit of a justification for a holiday.” This time, however, the trip will have some longer-term plans at heart. “I will be doing commissioned work, so it will be two weeks of absorbing, soaking it up subconsciously and getting the feel and eventually the feeling will come out on the canvas. I have six or eight seascapes under way at the moment and two big fish. But I very much want to do an exhibition in aid of marine conservation. So I am trying to sew the seed in Monaco. We were staying at the Yacht Club earlier this year and Prince Albert is very passionate about marine conservation. It would be wonderful to create a gala dinner where we could capture people’s attention – and, of course, get them bidding to buy paintings to raise money for marine conservation charities.”

Bathers near Cap Ferrat.

Tew adds: “Ideally, I want to get an exhibition going here in the UK as well. I am hoping to work with Philip Collier of the Collier & Dobson gallery in Fordingbridge. I want to build up a stock of fish and seascapes that can be exhibited so that I can then donate the proceeds.” Tew should easily be able to get people to contribute their money – but, equally, he may succeed in creating a donation of feelings, an emotional investment that is every bit as important if we are to save the scenery we all love.

]]>Amateur huntsman: hunting hounds and staying solventhttps://www.thefield.co.uk/hunting/amateur-huntsman-hunting-hounds-and-staying-solvent-42984
Tue, 06 Aug 2019 08:06:38 +0000https://www.thefield.co.uk/?p=42984The role of the amateur huntsman requires time and dedication – for no money. How do these modern-day heroes make ends meet, asks Adrian DangarAdam Waugh MFH surveys College Valley & North Northumberland country. The role of the amateur huntsman is relentless – often combining full-time work with hunting hounds. Adrian Dangar meets the …Continue reading »]]>The role of the amateur huntsman requires time and dedication – for no money. How do these modern-day heroes make ends meet, asks Adrian DangarAdam Waugh MFH surveys College Valley & North Northumberland country.

The role of the amateur huntsman is relentless – often combining full-time work with hunting hounds. Adrian Dangar meets the modern-day heroes prepared to throw their hat in the ring for our sport.

AMATEUR HUNTSMAN

Richard Tyacke, who has retired from the Wynnstay.

Until the mid-20th century the stereotypical Master of Foxhounds tended to be rich, landed, red faced and terrifying. But in the post-war years young men came forward and applied organisational skills to running a hunting country that could have landed them a plum job in any sphere they chose. Captain Ronnie Wallace was the standard bearer for the new style of industrious Master, exemplified by those who came after him such as Captains Clarke, Fanshawe, Farquhar and Kelly. They may still have appeared terrifying to their followers but their rise to hunting prominence during the second half of the 20th century was timely. Rural Britain had changed forever and hunts no longer had carte blanche to gallop wherever they wished. Big estates had been broken up and sold to owners who were at liberty to choose whether they welcomed the hunt or not, and the first stirrings of a more accessible countryside were beginning to be felt, especially in the shooting field, where former tenants were now free to shoot their own game on their own acres – or rent them out for someone else to enjoy. ‘The Captains’ were followed by successive waves of effective amateurs to address these challenges, including Nigel Peel, Alastair Jackson and Frank Houghton-Brown, all of whom spent years at the coalface of our sport with little or no financial reward.

COMPLEX ORGANISATION

Things have got increasingly complicated for hunting; more shooting, more restrictions and a whole lot more urbanisation and development have rendered many former Arcadian countries unhuntable – and that was before the invidious 2004 Hunting Act became law. As the difficulties of organising hunting have become ever more complex, even greater dedication and time is required to discharge the duties commensurate with being an amateur huntsman, by which I mean a Master who carries the horn and is also responsible for running the hunt country. Astonishingly, and thankfully for the tens of thousands who love following hounds today, young men (and the occasional brave woman) are still queuing up to throw in their lot with such a fabulously risky venture, although the problem for many is how to finance their vocation.

Richard Tyacke, who retires from a long and glittering career with Sir Watkin Williams-Wynn’s hounds at the end of this season, is one of the lucky few to have not just survived but flourished as a modern day MFH. Tyacke had the good fortune to be sent to Stowe in Buckinghamshire, which has its own pack of beagles. “From the moment I arrived at Stowe, I wanted to hunt hounds,” Tyacke recalls, “but I never thought I could make a career out of it.”

Peter McColgan, now Master of the North Shropshire.

Tyacke hunted the college beagles, spent his gap year whipping-in without pay for the Sinnington Hunt, and did three years at Cirencester. With such impeccable credentials there was no shortage of hunts willing to take him on as an MFH – but without a proven track record, none were prepared to offer financial support. “That was a major problem,” he says. “Although supportive, my father was not prepared to fund my hunting career and I had no money of my own. I went to the Eglinton in Scotland, where my Joint Master generously provided a flat and four grand a year while I devoted my time to running the hunt. That was enough to survive as a bachelor 20 years ago but I couldn’t see it lasting.”

After two successful seasons, Tyacke moved several rungs up the hunting ladder to the Tynedale in Northumberland, where it was agreed that part proceeds from the sale of fallen stock skins would accrue to the new Master. However, when this once-lucrative trade was knocked for six by the 2001 outbreak of foot and mouth disease, Tyacke was facing the end of his short career, which was only extended by the fortuitous sale of an inherited painting. “That kept me going for another two years,” he says, “but when I wanted to get married I realised I couldn’t afford to continue.” By now well established as a huntsman, Tyacke was saved by an approach from the top-flight Wynnstay hunt, whose Joint Master was prepared to finance him in recognition of the uniquely hard work it would take to organise sport in a large, grass dairy country.

Tim Coulson, former Master of the Bedale.

Tyacke survived by living hand to mouth until he had established a reputation that would attract financial support, but others are less fortunate; many run out of money before their reputation is made, or perhaps the timing is just wrong, and some discover they lack the unusual combination of skills required by the modern amateur. Others fall by the wayside in different ways. When he moved to the Bedale Hunt in 2016, Tim Coulson had already made his name at the Lauderdale and was able to negotiate a guarantee that he envisaged would provide some income in recognition of the time he would devote to running the hunt. “I had to make a living out of my passion for hunting hounds, although a subsistence one was fine by me,” Coulson remembers, “but it soon transpired that there was not enough money in the pot.” When he was asked to contribute to a shortfall in the Master’s guarantee his solution was to obtain an HGV licence and work as a lorry driver, which took him away from hunt duties several days each week during the summer. “This arrangement didn’t really work and I left the mastership at the end of my second season,” says Coulson.

ADDITIONAL EMPLOYMENT

Small wonder then, that in recent years several amateurs have taken on a mastership with the security of an additional full-time job. The disadvantages are obvious for hunt committees anxious to secure a full-time devotee to hunting, but if they are unable to raise funds to support full-time dedication they have little option but to appoint someone who must earn a wage away from the hunt. Few are as fortunate as the Cumberland, whose Joint Master, Tim Brockbank, has just relinquished the horn after successfully combining farming and hunting hounds for the past 20 years. Further west, Adam Waugh has juggled running a hill sheep farm with hunting the College Valley & North Northumberland since 2016. Another option is for the Master to look after the hounds himself in return for a salary, although this is a route most favoured by former professionals such as Peter McColgan, who successfully swapped being kennel huntsman to the Middleton for mastership of the Albrighton & Woodland, and has since moved to the North Shropshire.

Tim Brockbank with the Cumberland hounds.

Not everyone is qualified or prepared to take on the onerous, full-time task of looking after hounds in kennels; when the Derwent advertised for a Master and huntsman in 2011, local businessman Sean McClarron was persuaded to apply but was determined to continue running the insurance business he had founded many years earlier. Brought up in the country to enjoy fishing, shooting and ferreting, McClarron discovered hunting with the Derwent when 12 years old, but never imagined he would one day be its Master. “I’d worked hard since leaving school and built the business to a decent size,” he recalls, “so I decided to give it a go – we live in the same village as the kennels and I already knew everyone involved with the hunt.”

RELENTLESS LIFESTYLE

McClarron’s business has continued to expand ever since – it now handles the MFHA legal liability insurance – with offices situated as far apart as Durham and Dorset. Against this backdrop the Derwent has enjoyed enviable stability, and its adventurous Master garnered something of a reputation for taking his hounds to hunt such illustrious countries as the Blackmore & Sparkford Vale, Berkeley, Beaufort and Quorn. But McClarron admits it’s been a constant struggle to combine both passions. “You’ve got to be super-efficient and highly organised,” says the man who lives by a work hard, play hard philosophy and is reputed to put in a full day at the office long before the 11am meet. “You’ve got to get out of bed early and it’s crucial to have a really good team behind you in both spheres.” The relentless lifestyle has finally caught up with McClarron, who is standing down at the end of the season to take his business to the next level. “I’ve done my bit for hunting,” he says, “but it’s going to be tough leaving – after eight seasons my hounds are absolutely spot on; becoming Master was a tough decision but one I’ve never regretted for a second.”

Sean McClarron, Master and huntsman of the Derwent.

James Andrews, who is Joint Master and huntsman of the South & West Wilts and a practising chartered surveyor in Carmarthenshire, is also proof that it’s possible to combine hunting at the sharp end with a full-time job. Andrews is a man of legendary toughness and stamina, whose hounds are said to have shown the best sport of any hunt in the south-west last season, although he attributes this success modestly to “sheer luck”. The commute between his home and the office takes more than two hours with a following wind. “We hunt up to four days a week,” Andrews explains. “I often drive to Wales after hunting ready for a 6am start the following morning. Luckily I have a superb assistant who understands how it all works.” Andrews also points out that he could not discharge his responsibilities without “brilliant” Joint Masters to help clear country and organise the stables. “After nine seasons I’ve really got to know the farmers and I see a lot of them,” he says, “but it’s still a hell of a juggle at times; it’s fine until something goes wrong at either end. Luckily our sport has been good but if not my dual life could be a stick to beat me with.”

James Andrew leading the South & West Wilts hounds.

Andrews show no signs of slowing up but for many the onerous challenge of earning a living whilst hunting hounds cannot be sustained indefinitely. “I’m completely exhausted by the end of the season,” another amateur who holds down a steady job outside of hunting confided to me recently. There is little doubt the pressures of reconciling earning a living with hunting hounds as an amateur contributes to shorter masterships than prior to the 2004 Act, but perhaps all those who hunt should be grateful there are still men and women out there prepared to throw their hat into the ring and give it a go.

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